


Haddock Family Short Stories

by dreamworksdragonsnerd



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 22:29:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3827311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamworksdragonsnerd/pseuds/dreamworksdragonsnerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of stories about the Haddock family, from Hiccup's birth to the second movie and beyond. (The others will show up and there will be Hiccstrid as the stories progress through time)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Haddock Family Short Stories

**Short Story #1: The Little Hiccup**

“Valka! Valka, ‘e’s back, Stoick’s back!”

Valka jerked; she’d been dozing off after a hard day of—well, a hard day of work was one way to put it.

“He is? Where is he?”

“‘E’s coming up now, I already told him the news,” Gobber panted, climbing the stairs. “He couldn’t wait to see.”

“I—I imagine he couldn’t,” Valka replied nervously.

“Speakin’ o’ which, ‘ow is he?”

Valka glanced toward the corner of the room where a woman tended a small fire. “I—I—not well, Gobber. I don’t know—what if he—?”

“I’m sure he’ll be just fine, Val. Just like his—” He paused as the door to the house was flung open.

“Val? Val, are ye awake? Are ye upstairs?”

Stoick the Vast marched up the stairs so quickly he tripped on the last one. Picking himself up, he made his way to the bed and took his wife’s hand. “How are ye feelin’, Val? Gobber said it only happened yesterday—oh, Val, I wish I’d been ‘ere—”

“Stoick, Stoick, I’m fine,” she calmed him. “I’ll be up and around in a couple o’ days.”

“How is he? Can I see him?”

Valka swallowed. “Gobber…do ye think ye could—just leave us alone for a bit?”

Gobber nodded understandingly. “See ye in a bit, then. I might pay another visit to see him later.”

As he left, Valka turned to the woman at the fire. “Mrs. Ack, if ye could bring him over, please.”

Stoick’s heart beat faster as Mrs. Ack gingerly carried over a small bundle and passed it to Valka. The Chief’s wife pulled down some of the blanket to reveal the face of a newborn babe.

The Chief’s heart then sank. The boy was so tiny. So pale-faced. So frail.

Valka tried and failed to hold back a sob. “He was so sickly, Stoick. He b-barely cried when he came out, and hardly nursed. What if he d-dies? I—I—I can’t—I love him too much!” she cried.

Stoick turned to Mrs. Ack desperately. She shook her head sadly. “It’s highly unlikely he’ll survive the week.” The midwife put her hand on his arm. “He was born too early. Another few weeks and he may have been quite a healthy little boy…”

Stoick turned back to his wife. A tear slowly traced its way down Valka’s cheek. “I tried…I tried so hard to hold him back… This is all my fault!”

The Chief wiped away the tear. “Shh, Val, it’s all right. He—he was too excited to see us. It’s not your fault.” He looked at the bundle. “I assume ye haven’t chosen a name for him yet?”

Valka shook her head.

“May I—?” Stoick held out his arms tentatively.

She passed him the baby slowly, almost reluctantly. Stoick cradled the tiny boy in his huge arms and stroked the sparse dark hair on the child’s head. He could hardly believe how small the boy was: the baby’s head was smaller than Stoick’s palm!

Time seemed to slow as father met son. _Son. This is my son. I’m…I’m a father…for a little while._

_Because my son is going to die._

Stoick was surprised as tears stung at the corners of his eyes. _A Chief feels no pain,_ he thought. _There will be other sons…but not like this boy._

The babe suddenly opened two emerald eyes and gazed in what could be called a puzzled manner at the large man holding him. Those eyes seemed to stare straight into Stoick’s soul.

He was speechless; he could only gaze back the small bit of life he held.

He finally turned to Valka. “He—he has my eyes,” he managed.

His wife sat up. “He is awake?”

A hand touched Stoick’s arm. He jumped; he’d forgotten about Mrs. Ack. The midwife reached to take the child.

The next second, _everyone_ in the room jumped as the baby gave a loud, healthy-sounding hiccup.

Stoick was nonplussed, then began to laugh heartily. “Listen to him, Val! With lungs like those, he might just survive!”

The babe seemed to agree, for the _next_ second, he began to wail as though he had only been born a minute ago. Valka began to cry with happiness.

Mrs. Ack smiled. “He didn’t eat much yesterday. He’ll be wanting nourishment,” she advised.

Still tearing up, Valka took her soon back and began to nurse him. The child’s cries dwindled to whimpers and finally died as he was fed. Eventually he pulled back, gasping a little. “Shh, little hiccup, so greedy, aren’t ye?” Valka tutted.

“Hiccup,” Stoick repeated.

“Hmm?” she said distractedly, wiping the babe’s mouth with the corner of his blanket.

“Hiccup. That’s his name. Hiccup,” Stoick whispered, sitting on the bed next to his wife.

“Hiccup?” Valka knew two of Stoick’s forefathers had borne the name Hiccup, but it was an odd name nonetheless.

Stoick felt in his soul that his son’s hiccup was more than just a hiccup. It was a sign. A sign that his son would live. A sign that he would be strong.

“Hiccup.”

He touched the babe’s face with a gentle finger. Hiccup latched onto it with a tiny hand and something resembling a smile crossed his face. “See? He likes it,” Stoick laughed.

Valka pursed her lips. “He’s a _babe,_ Stoick. He doesn’t understand a word ye’re sayin’.”

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III. Such a long name for a tiny boy. And yet, she had to admit, it fit.

“Our little Hiccup,” she cooed. “I guess that’s yore name now…”

Hiccup yawned in response.

Mrs. Ack, who had been watching the little family from a respectful distance, came to Valka’s side. “It’s late, and Hiccup has had a big day,” she said, smiling. “It’s time to go back to your cradle, little one.”

“One minute,” Stoick interrupted. He held Hiccup one more time, kissing his forehead. “Good night, son,” he whispered.

As Mrs. Ack took the child to his cradle, Valka, turned back to Stoick, worry plain on her face. “What if this is only a fluke, Stoick? Suppose the gods are only being cruel to us, allowing us to see him well one night, only to take him away tomorrow?”

Stoick kissed the top of her head. “I have a feeling Hiccup will live to do great things, Val. He’ll grow up strong. I wouldn’t be surprised if he were the greatest chief Berk has ever seen. One day, he will be the strongest of us all.”


End file.
